


Not Today

by burntotears



Series: Criminal Husbands [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntotears/pseuds/burntotears
Summary: The first heist that Ryan does with the crew doesn't go exactly as planned. Michael still suspects that Ryan isn't what he says he is and he's out to prove it, no matter the cost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schmuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/gifts).



Things in the Fake AH Crew had begun to change rapidly after Ryan had joined and his so-called “trial run” extended from weeks into months in what felt like a blink of an eye. Soon enough they were planning their first heist with Ryan in the mix while Michael was still getting used to his presence.

Ryan had two contradictory personalities and he could switch between them spontaneously. First he was outrageously (preposterously, excessively, unnecessarily, unreasonably!) egotistical and was (as advertised) a deranged lunatic. He laughed maniacally while mowing cops down in the field, gave into animalistic instincts like it was completely normal. Second he was stupidly intelligent and undeniably polite and patient. He held open doors and offered to clean up messes he didn’t make. It was infuriating for Michael to watch the transition, especially since it was something he had never been able to manage.

_“You actually have a fire inside of you that you haven’t been able to satiate.”_

How could a man who had only known him for an hour read him like an open book when the crew he had spent the past two years with had yet to understand those eccentricities? Michael had always been angry; even after successfully completing a heist and becoming thousands of dollars richer, he still had this scorching energy roiling inside him. He tried alcohol, drugs, fighting, even meaningless fucking to calm the storm, but nothing worked. There was a devil inside of him that he could not slake and he drove himself nearly mad trying to tamp it down.

Adding Ryan to the crew hadn’t made things any easier on him. He was constantly comparing himself to the other man, analyzing him for clues that would explain how someone who seemed even more unhinged than Michael could still manage to stay completely civilian in the day to day. It made no fucking sense and Michael couldn’t help but begrudge Ryan’s normalcy. He resented that Ryan was always nice to him no matter how terrible Michael treated him. He resented Ryan for knowing things about Michael that not even _he_ completely understood. He resented Ryan for integrating himself so easily and completely into the crew when it took Michael months to feel comfortable with them.

Maybe Michael had hoped that Ryan’s reputation as a psychopath would work against him and he’d have the Vagabond out of his life and his crew within mere weeks. Maybe Michael was worried that the more Ryan started to find his place in the crew, the less useful he himself became. Maybe he felt like he was being replaced by the better, newer model.

He thought back to the rest introducing themselves to Ryan and telling him what roles they served inside the crew. Though Michael had remained silent out of spite, the truth was that he didn’t really know _what_ his role was now. He felt like an extra pair of hands, another gun, some more muscle, but nothing particularly unique. Before Ryan they talked about him as the wild card, but Ryan brought a whole new meaning to unpredictable. He didn’t know how he was supposed to compete with that. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe this was where Michael was supposed to pass go, collect his two hundred dollars, and go on his way. It had been a good ride, but all things come to an end eventually, right?

“Michael, are you even listening right now?” Geoff snapped, pulling Michael from his daze. 

He glanced over at his boss, shrugging one shoulder. “Sure.”

“I'm sorry, is the planning for our biggest heist to date getting in the way of your daydreaming? Please let me know and we can reschedule for your convenience.”

Michael grimaced. “Fuck you, Geoff.”

“You're gonna be fucking a shotgun in your mouth if you don't know every detail of this plan to a tee, so I would suggest you pay closer attention.” 

Michael pushed against the table, knocking his chair askew as he stood suddenly. “Fuck _off_. I'm not a fucking kid, Geoff, and I'm not in the mood for your shit right now.”

“Maybe we should take a little break?” Ryan suggested with uncertainty. 

“Oh shut it, Haywood. Stop trying to be the fucking hero. All of you just leave me the fuck alone.” He stormed out of the room before anyone could respond.

Jack sat down next to Michael at the edge of the pool fifteen minutes later, dipping her toes into the water gradually. “You still don’t trust him?” she asked simply.

Michael shrugged. “I just don’t know if he’s here for the right reasons.”

“You’re worried that he’s going to hurt someone.”

“Something like that,” Michael replied. He didn’t want to be selfish and say that he was mostly worried about himself and his place in the crew, not to mention Jack would just try to quell his fears. He didn’t want pity.

“We’ve taken precautions, Michael. I know you don’t like him much yet, but I really do believe that he’s an asset. We’ll be able to pull this off and we never would have if he hadn’t joined.” Jack kicked her feet in the water playfully.

“I know, Jack. I’m not trying to fuck up the heist, I’m just… I’ve got some personal shit going on right now, I guess. It won’t affect my performance.”

Jack put her arm around Michael’s shoulders and squeezed. “I know it won’t. But we aren’t just worried about the heist, y’know? We care about _you_.”

Michael plastered a fake smile on his face and bumped Jack sideways with his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sappy on me. I’ll be back up in a second.”

 

As soon as they heard the alarms sounding, things went from cautious to worst case scenario.

“ _Gavin_ , why am I hearing alarms?” Geoff hissed.

Gavin squandered for words. “I don’t bloody get it. The breaker reset the sensors inside…what would set off the alarm? Motion triggers outside the windows? But that’s barmy!”

“That’s something you should’ve accounted for.” Geoff was nearly through the five inch thick glass with his laser cutter. “Jeremy, what’s it look like?”

“Nothing solid yet, but starting to hear some scrambled radio chatter.”

“ _Fuck_. Jeremy, switch to scatter point C and Michael, head to scatter point A. Jack, can you give us a road block, something to slow them down?”

“I can cause a wreck, but I have to be grounded in two. Heli response time is only four minutes.”

“Do it, then meet us at rendezvous two,” Geoff confirmed. “Alright, I’m in. Ryan, set up whatever defense you can up there and hunker down. You might have drop-ins soon.”

“Got it.”

Michael jumped down the fire exit then crossed the conveniently placed plank to transfer to the other building. He couldn’t see any guards yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t responding from a different location. “We’re clear here, five minutes out from scatter point A,” Michael reported. He was bound for the stairwell inside the building, two floors down from the roof where Ryan was set up. First line of defense for anyone trying to attack from below. “Are the elevators down?” he asked Gavin as he dropped from the hatch into the dark stairwell. 

“Yes, they cut off with the power reset.”

“I reached scatter point C,” Jeremy said. 

“I’m in position as well,” Michael said, dropping down three flights of stairs with his repel line and lining traps against the door to the stairwell.

They heard explosions in the distance, a confirmation of Jack’s success. “I’m landing now.”

“I’ve hit the floor. Gavin, get these doors open _now_.” Geoff huffed into his comm.

“Door one should be opening now.”

“It’s still locked, Gavin!”

“I’ve got bogeys in the hall, Geoff. They’re coming right for you from the south stairwell!” Jeremy yelled and gunfire sounded through his wire.

“Fuck!” Michael yelled, starting to run down the stairs to intercept.

“Stay there, Michael! We have to keep them off the roof or we can’t extract!”

There was scuffling over the comms and everyone waited for more directions from Geoff. “Abort! I have to bail, it’s too hot in here! Everyone abort!”

Michael hissed. This had to be the worst possible scenario they could have encountered.

There was the sound of a zip line descending. “I’m going in!” Ryan announced, though by the sound of it he was nearly there already.

“Ryan, don’t you fucking dare!” 

“If I go in through the floor above I can bypass the doors and the guards.”

Michael cursed his logic; it might just salvage this mission. “I’ll set the C4,” Michael said, rushing through the door into the hallway of the floor above.

“Michael, we need you at A, dammit!”

“It won’t do any fucking good if there’s nothing to extract, Geoff!” 

“I can see you, Michael. Take your next right and you’ll be right above it,” Gavin interjected and Michael slid across the floor in a quick turn, already tossing C4 on the carpet. After a few throws he turned and dashed back to the stairwell, making it through the door just as he pressed the ignite button. 

The explosion rocked the building and he heard Ryan grunt from the fallout, but he didn’t report any injuries. 

“Next right,” Gavin hissed at Ryan.

“I think I can follow the smoke and fire easily enough,” Ryan quipped.

Michael heard boots pounding the stairwell down below him. “I’ve got bogeys at A. Countering now.” He pulled the pin on two grenades and dropped them directly down the center of the stairwell. The following explosions drew screams from wounded men. 

“Almost through the safe,” Ryan said and Michael sighed with relief until he heard more doors slamming open in the stairwell on multiple floors. 

“I’m getting swarmed at A. Don’t know how long I can hold it.”

“Fuck. Michael, give him as much time as you can!” Geoff responded. “I’m trying to get to you.”

“It’s too hot, Geoff, you won’t make it through. I’m going to have to push back toward Ryan.”

“I’m in, I’m in!” Ryan cheered. 

“Hurry it up, Haywood!” Michael gasped as the men burst through the stairwell door. He began firing rapidly, trying to drop as many as he could through the bottleneck. 

Ryan bound past him in the hall and shot at two men before giving Michael a quick glance. “Gotta run!” he winked and dashed off in the direction of his entry point. 

Michael gaped. “Haywood, what are you doing?”

Ryan didn’t respond and Michael felt his stomach dropping with each second that ticked by. Had Ryan just played them? Was he bugging out with the loot and hanging them out to dry? He didn’t have time to ponder it; he had to react. He tossed two smoke grenades toward the guards and ran after Ryan, reaching his entry point and looking down to see the blond landing on the ground. He unhooked from the line and booked it down the alley to a getaway car.

Michael hooked himself to the line and jumped out the window, dropping as fast as he dared without burning his hands or breaking his legs on impact with the ground. He saw Ryan’s vehicle peeling from the alley just as he slammed into the pavement and took off toward the opposite alley where a motorcycle was stashed. “I’m going after him!” 

“What? Michael, you need to get to the rendezvous point!” Geoff screamed, but the blood pounding in Michael’s ears made it hard for him to concentrate on what Geoff was saying. He exited the alley at full speed, nearlying toppling over as he screeched onto the main road to tail Ryan. He had a good headstart, but Michael could still see him in the distance. Wherever he was headed, Michael would catch him and he’d make him pay for betraying them.

Ryan turned left suddenly and the car ramped from the freeway onto the street below. Michael tried to slow down when the bike jumped the ramp, but didn’t quite manage it. The bike began to lean forward and the pavement was closing in fast directly below him. He was going to hit face first. A car appeared in the street just as Michael was going to make contact and his front wheel slammed through the car’s windshield. The sudden loss of momentum yanked Michael off the seat of the motorcycle and slammed him into the roof of the car, which was now spinning out of control with no driver alive to steer it. The motorcycle flipped upside down and landed on top of him before he continued to roll from the hood to the trunk and then slammed into the pavement behind it. Michael’s ears were filled with breaking bones and crunching car parts, pain lighting him up all over.

“Geoff and I just hit the rendezvous,” Jeremy announced, his voice hardly a whisper in Michael’s ear. “Michael, where are you?”

“Where’s Ryan?” Geoff followed up with.

Michael couldn’t move his arms or legs and he had a pretty good idea that the reason his breath was coming in ragged, shaking movements was because he’d perforated a lung with a broken rib. His voice raked out of his throat into the comm. “I’m uh… I won’t be making the rendezvous.” He started to cough up blood.

“Michael what happened? Where are you?” Geoff’s concern poured through the comm into Michael’s ear. He found himself smiling weakly.

“Had a bit of an accident, G. In pretty-” he coughed violently. “In pretty bad shape.”

“Gavin find out where he is!” Geoff hollered.

“Geoff, the cops are closing in on us. If we don’t clear out now we aren’t getting out of here,” Jeremy reported.

“No! I’m not leaving him! Where the _fuck_ is Ryan?”

Michael coughed again. “Geoff, you need to go. You know the - the rules. Get everyone out… get them safe.”

“Michael, there is no fucking way-” Gunfire cut over Geoff’s response.

“Just fucking _go_!” Michael said as forcefully as he could manage. His vision was beginning to darken. “You won’t make it in time-” he broke off into more coughing. He started to drift out of consciousness, sirens sounding down the street and the squeal of tires somewhere nearby. He wanted to say more before he died, tell them how much they meant to him, but his body was shutting down. He slipped into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

When Michael woke up his head was pounding but that pain was hardly noticeable above the unbelievable anguish the rest of his body was in. He tried to slip his eyes open but wasn’t even certain if he’d managed it. He could hear a steady beeping sound nearby, just underneath the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. He tried to say something, to scream in agony, but all that came out was a quiet moan.

“Fuck, I think he’s waking up,” someone said in the distance. The voice sounded faintly familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Oh no, it’s way too early,” another voice responded and then Michael felt a liquid rush through his veins and his eyes drooped, body descending back into blackness. 

Sometime later, Michael woke up again and the pain had diminished nominally. He opened his eyes slowly, hands and fingers working in and out of a fist to test their strength. When his eyes focused he saw Ryan sitting in a chair next to his bed. Michael jumped, making an attempt to sit up and _get the hell away_ , but his body was too weak; he started to topple off the edge of the bed.

“Whoa, whoa,” Ryan was next to him, steadying him back into the bed. “Easy there. Might want to give yourself a bit more time than that. You’ve been through a lot.”

Michael jerked away. “What the- oh fuck, did you _kidnap_ me? Am I being held hostage?” Michael’s first thought was that Ryan had nursed him back to health so that he could keep him locked up in his secret sex dungeon to fulfill his sick and twisted fantasies. Sure, Michael had perused some light BDSM in his time, but he wasn’t into the hardcore shit.

Ryan looked puzzled. “I… what?”

“I am _not_ gonna fucking call you daddy, you sick fuck!” he tried to lunge at Ryan in a threatening manner, but it looked pitiful with tubes feeding into his arms.

Ryan lifted his hands in surrender and backed away from Michael slowly, planting himself back into the chair at a safe distance. “Alright, I think we might have gotten our wires crossed. Michael, do you know who I am?” Ryan sputtered for a minute and added, “Do you know who _you_ are?”

“Yes, you shitbox. You’re the motherfucker that joined my crew and fucked ‘em. I _told_ you not to fuck with them. I may not be able to kill you yet, but oooooh-” Michael’s rage was burning him inside. He wanted to jump out of that bed and pummel Ryan’s face in until it resembled nothing but a bloody, pulpy mass of skin and bones. “Just you fucking wait, you cunt sucking fucknut. The second I have my chance-” 

“Whoa, Michael, hang on. I didn’t fuck anybody and I certainly didn’t kidnap you.” Ryan looked a little pale but even more confused.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Michael spat back, sneering.

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” Ryan replied simply, like they were words he’d said many times before. “This is one of your safehouses. I met Trevor here with you so he could patch you up. You broke a rib and it punctured your lung and your leg is fractured in like ten different places.”

“Trevor?” Michael asked with uncertainty. Sure, Trevor was their guy, but who wasn’t to say that Ryan had put him under duress-

“I haven’t been holding Trevor hostage either. The other guys have been in and out to check on you too. I swear. I just happen to be the only one here right now.” Ryan chewed his lip. “Sorry to startle you.”

Michael didn’t really understand. How could Ryan and the crew still be talking when he made out like a bandit with their score? “Then where are jewels?”

“Geoff’s working on selling them now.”

“You didn’t steal them?”

Ryan looked dumbfounded. “No… is that what you thought?”

“Why the fuck do you think I was chasing you?” Michael asked incredulously.

“You were - I thought you were _following_ me! I didn’t know you were chasing me!”

Michael threw his hands up and then regretted it as the needles in his veins pulled painfully. “You winked at me and said ‘gotta run’! And you weren’t headed toward the rendezvous!” 

“Because they were being swarmed. I was taking them to the nearest safehouse.”

“Then why did you wink?” Michael’s voice was an octave higher than normal. He was so confused and annoyed at not understand the situation or even knowing how long he’d been out.

“Oh well that… I dunno, I was just trying to have fun, I guess.” Ryan shrugged his shoulders, looking a bit sheepish.

“Fun? _That’s_ what you call fun?”

“Among other things, sure,” the blond replied coolly.

“Why weren’t you answering your comm then?” There had to be a hole in this story somewhere.

Ryan sat forward a bit. “Oh. It fell out when I was propelling from the building. Shattered on the ground into hundreds of pieces.”

“So you didn’t steal the score from us and I followed you and ended up like this for nothing?” Michael wasn’t being completely fair. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault that Michael was insecure and using any reason to paint the blond as the bad guy.

“Sorry. I had no idea. As soon as I saw the accident I came back and picked you up. I really thought you weren’t gonna make it for a while.” The concern on the man’s face was evident, though Michael still felt uncomfortable under it. Ryan hadn’t known him that long, surely he didn’t give that much of a fuck if Michael was hurt.

A door opened and closed and Trevor entered the room, a bright smile on his face when he saw Michael was awake. “Michael! I figured you’d be up soon. How are you feeling?”

“Like hell, doc. Where’s my morphine?”

Trevor snorted. “You already used most of my stock when you were bleeding all over in here. I had to go get some more thanks to you.”

“Well, don’t forget to slip some into my doggy bag when I blow this joint.” Michael grinned crookedly. “Thanks for patching me up. It’s good to see you again.”

Trevor sat down the bag he was carrying and leaned against the wall. “Well, I always did have a soft spot for criminals with good hair.”

“No wonder you took to me so well,” Ryan interjected with a smirk.

Michael rolled his eyes. “How long are you gonna keep me prisoner, then? I want outta this hellhole.”

“You wound me, Michael,” Trevor responded, hand over his chest. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you back home soon.”

 

Michael spent about a week in the safehouse until he was able to move without his body crumpling in on itself. The boot on his right leg sucked, but it was better than the alternative, he supposed. It did mean he couldn’t drive for a while though. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Ryan offered to pick him up and take him home. The other man had been apologizing left and right, apparently feeling responsible for Michael’s mistake. Really Michael just felt fucking stupid for not listening to the rest of his crew when they told him that Ryan was legit.

He might’ve had a long talk with Jack where he was a bit more honest about his misgivings of Ryan. Jack explained in intricate detail that Michael wasn’t replaceable and that his worries were unnecessary - just like he knew she would. Hearing it out loud might have helped a little bit though. Seeing all the relieved faces of his crew members when they saw him awake again after the accident meant a lot to him.

Michael asked Ryan to pull over halfway to his house at his favorite overlook spot. He pulled a beer from the container that Jeremy had brought him as a ‘get out of the hospital and party it up’ gift and hauled himself from the passenger seat. He sat down on the cement barrier that kept cars from plummeting to their deaths, popping the cap from the beer and taking a long swig. Ryan sat down next to him.

They sat there for a while in silence, Ryan looking out at Los Santos and Michael finishing his beer. The blond eventually broke the silence.

“So, did I pass your test?” Ryan asked, a smug smile on his face.

Michael groaned and shoved at Ryan’s shoulder. “There was no test; fuck off.”

Ryan thought for a moment and then rephrased the question. “Ok, well… are you done treating me like a pariah?”

Michael pitched his empty beer bottle forward and listened carefully for the crunch and shatter of the glass. “Maybe. But I need your help with something first.”

“Of course. Do you need me to clean up your litter?” 

“So you will murder tons of people, but _littering_ bothers you?” Michael asked incredulously looking over at the other man.

“I’m not an _animal_ ,” Ryan replied simply.

For the first time, Michael spoke out loud what he’d only ever thought to himself. “I think that I am,” he said quietly, slowly, unsure of how the words would feel out on the airwaves for anyone to hear them; for anyone to _know_ them. There was no huge relief, no weight lifted from his shoulders, but the long exhale that followed did seem to steady his fast beating heart. He didn’t think that Ryan would judge him, but he still wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. He didn’t even know if Ryan knew what he was talking about.

But the blond just shook his head. “You’re not. If you’ll let me, I can try and help you understand it.” Apparently he remembered what he’d told Michael all that time ago.

“How? How do you do it?”

Ryan kicked his legs against the barrier underneath him, looking out toward the rising sun. “It’s a simple formula really. You take three parts mayhem, a dash of murder, two parts adrenaline, a bit of calculated risk, a _whole_ lot of self pleasure, six tablespoons of-”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re just making shit up.”

A chuckle left the blond man’s lips. “Yeah, I am. There isn’t any right or wrong way to do it, but I can show you my way and maybe it’ll help you find something that works for you.”

Michael was silent for a while, staring out over the city of Los Santos below them, enjoying the small amount of calm he felt. That fire was still burning inside of him, but it felt less like it was going to immolate him and more like a sizzle lining his insides. “Okay,” he said simply.

He saw Ryan looking over at him in his periphery, but he held his gaze forward. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Michael replied.

“Okay,” Ryan nodded and Michael saw the shadow of a smile cross his face.


End file.
